


never too old for this

by ashers_kiss



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint enjoys hearing he's done well, Gen, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sparring, Steve is a good big brother, background tony stark/steve rogers - Freeform, it's not praise kink but it's along those lines?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:36:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9952469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashers_kiss/pseuds/ashers_kiss
Summary: It’s not technically a training session.  It’spractice, or at least that’s what Steve had called it, because apparently he’s worried Clint’s hand-to-hand is getting rusty.And hey, he was able to hold off Captain America for nearly two hours, even if he did get his ass kicked.  He’s a little proud of himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Look what I found! Apparently written in May 2014, right after TWS - I somehow got talking about an idea I saw about Steve being a big brother figure for Clint, and someone asked me for a small thing about it. I did also manage to sneak in a little hint of Steve/Tony, because why not. :')
> 
> For all it was written a year before it came out, it actually works rather well within AOU, though that doesn't extend to CW.

Clint rolls into a crouch and wipes down his face. He keeps getting sweat in his eyes, and Steve’s barely breathing hard. It’s annoying. “Tired yet, old man?”

Steve grins, bright and brilliant over the shield. “Watch your mouth, kid.”

“Whatever,” Clint says, but his arm’s still numb where Steve caught him earlier with the edge of the shield, and it slips out from under him when he slides to take out Steve’s ankle. He lands on his back with a grunt, leaving him wide open for Steve to sit on his chest, which is just _unfair_ , because the guy doesn’t budge, no matter what way Clint twists.

“Boys, behave,” Nat says, flat, from her bench. She doesn’t even look up, just turns another page of her book, and Clint would flip her off if he had a spare hand.

It’s not technically a training session. It’s _practice_ , or at least that’s what Steve had called it, because apparently he’s worried Clint’s hand-to-hand is getting rusty. (Clint rooms with _Natasha_. Through choice, he has his own floor, but still.) And Clint isn’t _completely_ stupid, he knows Steve’s got a lot on his plate right now, between Barnes and the team and the politicians and the fallout from rooting out HYDRA (and wasn’t _that_ a fun realisation for everyone), not to mention whatever the hell’s got Tony banging around in his workshop at three am, but – but he’s kind of glad, all the same.

And hey, he was able to hold off Captain America for nearly two hours, even if he did get his ass kicked. He’s a little proud of himself.

Steve lets up on him pretty quick, really, pulls him to his feet and claps a hand over the shoulder that didn’t give out on him. “You all right?” he asks, all worried big blue eyes, and Clint’s ducking his head, rubbing the back of his neck before he realises.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” He makes out he’s rubbing at a sore spot, and hisses when it turns out that, hey, it fucking _is_. Fantastic. “Think I’m gonna grab a shower, though.” Fucking supersoldiers and their fucking super healing. Now _Clint_ feels old.

“A warm one,” Steve agrees, nodding. Then he smiles, and it’s not quite as big as before, but just as bright. “You did good today,” he says, and Clint – Clint fucking _preens_ , feels it unfurl in his chest like – like sunshine, which is ridiculous, except. Except it’s always been like that, ever since he was a little kid, and he should really be over that shit by now.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, slips out from under Steve’s arm before he does something stupid like promise he’ll do better next time. Natasha holds his water out to him as she stretches out, clearly planning on taking advantage of Steve’s free time. Clint doesn’t blame her.

“Warm water,” Steve shouts after him, and by the time the door eases shut behind him, Clint can’t bite back the stupid grin on his face.

Later, when he makes his way to the common kitchen – still stiff, and he’s going to have some _wicked_ bruises; seriously, too old for this, Barton – Steve drops an icepack into his hands. Clint doesn’t even try to argue, just salutes and settles it on his shoulder.

Totally different story when Steve steals the Arts section from him – Clint’s _extremely_ vocal in his, “I was _reading_ that, asshole.” – but since he makes him coffee while blocking Tony from the machine (because Tony hasn’t come up from his workshop for three days, and, “God knows when you last slept, Tony, or ate, or – I said _no_ , go and sit down”), Clint figures he can forgive him.


End file.
